02x01 - Satellite of Love

Episode transcripts for the TV show "</SCORPION>". Aired: September 2014 to April 2018.*
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An eccentric genius forms an international network of super-geniuses to act as the last line of defense against the complicated threats of the modern world.
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02x01 - Satellite of Love

Post by bunniefuu »

Walter: I'm Walter O'Brien. I run a team of geniuses who handle worldwide threats only we can solve. Sylvester is a human calculator. Happy's a mechanical prodigy. And Toby is our behaviorist. Agent Cabe Gallo is our government handler. And Paige helps translates the world for us while we help her understand her genius son. Though sometimes our biggest challenge is understanding each other. Together, we are Scorpion.

(tires screeching)

(siren wailing)

(engine revving)

(tires screeching)

(siren wailing)

(tires screeching)

(g*nsh*t)

You take the back, I'll take the front.

Cut! Cut, cut, cut, cut. Cut!

Huh?

What's the holdup?

What's the matter?

Uh, tech advisor has a note.

The tech advisor, yeah?

You're holding the g*n wrong. (laughs)

I'm holding the g*n wrong.

Listen, I've done a few cop projects in my time.

I know what I'm talking...

Yeah, well, that sounds fun and all make-believe, Mr. Simmons, but you're not on stage wearing makeup.

You want to look genuine, in the real world, you hold a g*n like this.

Why don't you do me a favor?

Go to craft services, grab a Sanka.

(phone ringing)

(mumbling)

Have a nice day.

Gallo.

Man: Mr. Gallo, I'm calling from Homeland Security.

The director wants you and team Scorpion to assemble at the garage in 45 minutes.

Hold on, we got a case?

I got my job back?

The answer to both questions is yes.

Do you want me to call my agent?

No, no, no!

Hold this for me, would you, Gene?

Wardrobe, I need a suit!

Good job.

Making progress.

Uh, how about you get the pick-up sticks?

Yeah, sure.

Fantastic.

More pick-up sticks...

(tone ringing)

(low whooshing)

(distantly): Hey, Walt.

Oh, hey.

Okay, uh, how about we start with some "Chopsticks" today?

Man: You got it, boss.

(playing "Chopsticks")

(playing classical music masterfully)

(laughing)

We've talked about you rewiring the prosthetics.

(laughing): I'm sorry, I just... we couldn't, we couldn't take more "Chopsticks."

That's a six-figure robotic arm.

Cabe: You're wasting your time.

He doesn't listen to anybody.

You're here early this week.

And no puzzles?

It ain't a visit, son.

I've been reinstated.

And we got a case.

Well, that's fantastic that Merrick gave you your job back.

That must mean the case is dire.

You up for working?

I know you got a few more weeks of therapy.

Oh, no, no, no.

Hand's coming along.

Just let me go tell the therapist.

Hey, so I've been called to a brief consult.

Well, the doctor doesn't advise any day trips for another two weeks, at least.

I feel, I feel fine.

When was your last dizzy spell?

Can't even remember.

All right, well, you need to avoid stress at all costs.

This isn't a joke, Mr. O'Brien.

I'm a tech geek. (chuckles)

How stressful could it be?

Paige: Okay, one Tuna Paradise, a Turkey Gobbler and a Pot Pie Surprise.

Man (bell dinging): Paige!

We're going cold over here!

In a second.

Man: I wanted the tuna salad, not a sandwich.

Paige, some time today!

Nemos, in a second, please.

The Tuna Paradise is a sandwich.

The Tuna Paramour is a salad.

Paige, either you can do the job or you can't!

Nemos, for the love of God...

Oh, my God!

Toby: Sleeping on the job.

That's what you've been doing these past weeks?

(groans) What are you guys doing back?

Walter isn't finished with his PT.

Happy: Got a text from Cabe.

Cabe doesn't work here anymore.

Why didn't I get a text?

Sylvester: Cabe got rehired.

And you did get a text.

And what the heck's a Tuna Paramour?

Toby: Aw, I see you got a new toy.

Not a toy-- a vintage Super Fun Guy talking statuette with variable dialogue chip.

I've turned my focus now to more serious collectors' pieces.

I spent my time off trying to evolve a little.

You'll take a lickin' from my rubber chicken!

(blows landing)

I'm sure you were hugely productive.

I spent my time outdoors, applying my behaviorist skills to the animal kingdom.

Not collecting toys!

Or making them.

It was a toy, now it's a w*apon.

Toby: Very mature.

Warfare, sprinkled with arts and crafts.

(screams)

Ow!

I like paintball!

Sylvester: Well, at least one of us didn't completely regress without Scorpion.

Looks like Paige has spent her summer reading.

Nerd.

Actually, while Walter rehabbed, he asked me to take charge of the day-to-day in a more meaningful way-- you guys handle the science, I handle the business.

"Leadership Dynamics"?

"Managing Strategic Relationships."

"The Entrepreneur Mind."

I've installed energy-efficient lightbulbs and a new intercom system so we don't have to shout.

Boring!

Want to hear what the new case is already.

So do we.

But we're still waiting for contact from Homeland.

Hey, welcome back, Kotter!

Who?

(grunts)

I missed you.

Yeah, reciprocated.

I could've made you something better.

(chuckles)

How come you only let Cabe visit?

Our leader didn't want us to see him in a weakened state.

Classic Hercules Complex.

Yeah, well, the point is that I'm... back and I'm sure that we're all... pleased... pleased to return to work.

So...

Speaking of which, Director Merrick should be here any minute.

Oh, thrilling!

Good to have you back.

It's been quiet around here.

(robotic blasting)

Super Fun Guy: My Whoopee Cushion of Doom will blast you to atoms!

(Super Fun Guy farting)

You were saying?

I, uh, I enjoyed the cupcakes moist.

Least I could do.

I should really get changed.

I don't like that ergonomic chair you got me.

My old chair had a perfectly worn butt groove.

Is nothing sacred?

(knocks)

Hey.

Oh, hey.

Yeah, come in.

Oh, I just need a second, if that's okay.

Sure.

Um... uh, here, let me, let me help you.

Oh, thank you. Yeah.

Oh, I saw the, uh, books on your desk.

You've really, uh, embraced the added responsibility that I've, I've given you.

Yes.

Uh, the, um, the one constant I found in all of those books is without open communication, ventures invariably fail.

Mm-hmm.

So the team has to be able to share ideas and concerns and feelings Mm-hmm. without... judgment or... repercussion.

There, it's done.

Right, yeah.

Unadulterated information flow is always optimal.

Good, uh, because...

I have some information to, um... flow.

Uh-huh.

It seems when you were back at the hospital unconscious, I... well, I sort of... kissed you.

I've had time to think about why, and I've realized that you've helped me and Ralph a great deal.

Ralph! How is, uh, how is he doing? Is he...?

In Maine, visiting Drew.

But I really need to stay on topic or we'll never get through this.

Okay, sorry.

It's okay. Okay.

So, um, this job puts us in intense situations, emotions run high.

And I really respect you and like you so much as a person.

And I think that those feelings got tangled up and confused (laughs): and so, I-I... I kissed you.

(clears throat) You know, I think it's important there be no secrets.

Open communication.

Right, and I know I don't really have those feelings I may have thought I had and I don't want to risk Scorpion in any way.

So I know I'm rambling, so I'll conclude as professional colleagues because that's what we are.

Yeah, I mean, I-I-I appreciate your honesty and I agree that what we experienced was just a... uh, you know, a stressful first year (laughs): on the job.

Good, um...

And since we're following the open communication doctrine, is there... anything you'd like to share?

Uh... no.

Oh.

Okay.

Well, I think this was a productive talk.

Yeah, me, too.

(intercom buzzes)

Toby: Me, too.

New intercom works great by the way.

Eavesdropping is a crime, you know?

Says the woman who assaulted an unconscious man.

Felony much?

I'm very uncomfortable right now.

I'm with you-- no fraternization means no problems.

I'm right here.

Sylvester: An SUV just pulled up!

Has, uh, Director Merrick arrived?

Not exactly.

What does that mean?

Director Merrick, you look ravishing.

This is Adriana Molina, new Homeland director.

What happened to Bald 'N Grumpy?

Well, let's just say you guys weren't the only ones that Merrick couldn't get along with.

Adriana?

I'd tell you about myself, but I'm sure you'll have my records soon enough.

Sylvester: Top of class Yale, Georgetown Law, Deputy Secretary to the U.N.

Human Rights Council, Director of International Affairs...

For another day, Mr. Dodd.

In my hand is a jump drive.

You'll download the details to our next case while in transit to RAC.

Rocketry Aeronautics Center.

Yes.

Your team is uniquely qualified because as reacquired government assets, you can be held to strict confidentiality, whereas private RAC contractors cannot.

Further, you have intimate knowledge of Russian aerospace engineering.

No, we don't.

I am looking directly at an illegally obtained Cold w*r-era rocket.

Oh, that thing.

Now, in the past year, you have managed to piss off the LAPD, A*F, CIA, FBI...

NBA.

Snuck into a Clippers game.

Seems Merrick was hoping you guys would screw up enough that the government would never trust you again.

I am not Merrick.

I want you to be successful.

Now, debriefing begins in the SUV, 30 seconds.

Let's move.

Adriana: The Russian K12 satellite a few hours ago was struck by space debris, knocked out of orbit and now it is hurtling towards Earth.

Rough estimates have it hit somewhere in Southern California.

Spent the last two months at Santa Anita.

Didn't hit one exacta, these odds come in.

Handicapping ponies-- that was you using your skills on the animal kingdom?

Satellites fall out of orbit every day.

Why-why wouldn't this one burn up on re-entry?

It's nuclear powered by a thousand-pound block of plutonium encased in beryllium.

So if it hits the Earth at say, Mach 30?

We've got an A-b*mb.

Destruction radius: 50 miles.

Happy: That impact will create a fireball and incinerate everything within five miles.

Then a concussive air blast will level a 45-mile circle after that.

In a city, that's 10,000 office buildings, 2,000 schools.

Anywhere near a populated area, that's 10 million lives.

Three hours till impact, but that is a guesstimate since we don't have the full specs of the satellite due to Russian security.

They can't just give us the info?

No, their official position is that they don't know of any satellite.

Means it's an illegal spying operation.

They can't admit to it.

Toby: They cover their butts, and one-seventh of the U.S. economy gets taken out.

Win-win for Moscow.

You need to hack the satellite, reset its trajectory (tone ringing) so that it dumps into the ocean.

(distantly): No land impact, no explosions.

(ringing ends)

Are you with me, Mr. O'Brien?

(normal): Yeah, yeah, it's just gonna take fast coding.

"No mistakes" is pretty hard to pull off with a hand like this.

I-I type 100 words per minute.

Tell me what to do, I won't mess up.

Adriana: Let me be clear.

Between the fireball, air blast and radiation fallout, there are 10 million lives depending on the people in this SUV, so messing up is not an option.

Welcome back to Scorpion, everyone.

♪ Scorpion 2x01 ♪
Satellite of Love
Original Air Date on September 21, 2015

Adriana: Welcome to the Rocketry Aeronautics Center.

Wow, you really cleared the place out.

Sylvester: This is so cool.

Well, White House can't risk a panic.

Civilians find out what's happening, and they tell one family member...

You got w*r of the Worlds.

Little listened-to radio broadcast, but panic spread in minutes.

Well, speaking of minutes, we have 141.

Let's hustle.

Walter: Okay, log in, run init dash boot, backslash force, main colon IP host.

Okay, 3.2.168.4.

That's a wonderful job.

You're doing great.

Oh, good to be working with you again.

As a team.

Yeah, I concur.

So much for no fraternization.

Um, Sly?

I'm not reading a live signal from the satellite.

There's nothing to connect to.

Something's wrong.

It doesn't make sense.

Could it be too damaged from space debris?

Unlikely.

It's not unlikely, it's nearly impossible.

Space debris is dust, a centimeter.

A swarm of it could knock a satellite from orbit, but cause severe structural damage?

What exactly are you insinuating?

I'm not insinuating anything.

Easy pal.

I'm saying it's illogical that we can't get into a system that has minimal damage; it doesn't jive with the information you've provided us with.

Paige: Okay, let's take a break.

Sylvester, take over the hack?

Sylvester: You got it.

Paige: Okay, first day back, so your people skills are a little rusty, but that's our new boss you just mouthed off to.

(tone ringing)

(distantly): Walter.

(ringing ends)

Walter.

Are you okay?

(mumbling): Yeah, I'm okay.

I just got... I just got... I got a headache.

Yeah, I've had headaches, that wasn't not one.

What-what the hell is going on?

I've got post-concussion syndrome from the accident.

I get head pains, dizziness, blackouts whenever I have to concentrate hard or whenever things g-get intense.

Intense?

Intense is all we're dealing with.

Why would your doctor let...?

He doesn't know about this.

I assume Cabe is in the dark, too?

Please don't say anything.

They've never seen me at less than optimum efficiency.

It could affect their performance, and I can't afford that today.

None of us can.

Okay, assess yourself.

And don't lie.

Doctor said I will be fully recovered by the end of the month.

Right now, I am 70%.

Perhaps that's why I can't hack the system.

There's millions of lives...

What if I can't do this?

The same question I've been asking myself since you expanded my role on the team.

Walter, I've been having nightmares about being a waitress again, okay?

Fear of failure is a feeling you're not used to, so let's make a pact: I support you, you support me, and together we make this work.

Sylvester: Walter, nothing is working.

I can't even get an auxiliary telemetry signal.

We are losing time we don't have.

We need another way to att*ck this.

"att*ck" being the operative word-- sociologists have two schools of thought on controls: internal controls, which we don't have 'cause we can't get in the system, and external controls, which is still an option.

We blow the sucker out of the stratosphere with a m*ssile.

To calculate the flight path of the satellite, I need exact measurements.

Uh, altitude profiles, the mass of all of its interior components.

Without precise data, our trajectory will be off, and the m*ssile will miss.

We considered an intercept, but we don't have the specs you need.

And it's not like you guys have the time to hack Roscosmos and steal the Russian blueprints, do you?

No, even if I was doing the keystrokes myself, it would take a minimum of a day.

That's it-- keystrokes.

We don't need to hack into Roscosmos if we could read the keyboard strokes of someone entering the Russian system.

Then we'd have the password.

How are we gonna get our eyes on some commie's keyboard?

Last I checked, Russia's pretty far away.

There's Russian soil here in L.A.

The Russian consulate.

Yeah, Happy, can...?

Happy: Yes, I can.

Cabe, give me the keys to the SUV.

You guys prep, we'll be back soon.

Uh...

And I will need this, too.

Toby: Do you really think this will work?

It sends a signal to unlock a car.

I'm just reversing it to receive a signal.

I attach two fork prongs, shove it into an outlet, we pick up every keystroke on the Ruskies' computer.

Including when they type in the password to Roscosmos.

Speaking of receiving signals, got the message loud and clear: you don't want fraternization at work.

This is what we want to talk about when SoCal's about to blow up?

If today's my expiration date, this is all I want to talk about.

In short...

I'm like mold sporing on aged cheese.

At first it's gross, but it grows on you.

And eventually, you realize how precious it is, what a rare and wonderful fungus you have.

You better hope by then this fungus hasn't moved on.

Right.

Really? You agree?

No, make a right!

Oh.

(elevator bell dings)

By the way, you're a tech emissary from Japan with no language skills.

Because?

Some sexist Russian dude faced with a nonverbal woman, you'll be invisible to him.

You can safely plant the device.

(Toby sighs)

Oh, borscht.

May I help you?

Hi, I'm Dr. Tobias Curtis.

This is my tech attaché, Yuzuki Fujimoto.

Konnichiwa.

I'm with Homeland, and we're having some trouble connecting with Roscosmos, and it's urgent we speak with them.

Matter of national security.

(speaks Japanese)

Toby: Oh, you speak Japanese.

How fortunate.

(speaks Japanese)

(speaks Japanese)

Toby: Oh, my goodness.

So clumsy.

(snapping fingers) Hey, you. What are you doing?

Oh, sorry, I was just getting the last pen.

Rolled all the way back here.

Can I just say: you have none of the warm friendly personality traits that Russians are known for.

Miss Fujimoto.

Okay, Happy, we're prepped and ready to receive the data.

Happy: Almost done, I'm just translating it from Cyrillic.

Walter: All right, that security officer must have started typing as soon as you left.

Huh? Warning Roscosmos that American nut jobs are demanding access.

I'm good at this, I admit it.

Okay, password is D-W-O-P-P-Y-U.

K dash N dash 2,000, run enter.

Okay, we're in.

Sly, you're on.

Searching the system now for any data on Russian K12 satellites.

Bingo, somebody pad me.

Do you know what he's doing?

Of course, he's plugging in all the variables that could affect the, uh, trajectory of the satellite's fall-- shape, mass, moment of inertia.

Got it.

These are the exact coordinates of the satellite's path-- where it is, where it's going, changing by the second.

How fast can you get a m*ssile in the sky?

As fast as I can dial.

This is Adriana Molina, authorization code: Foxtrot, Foxtrot, Bravo, Darla, 6-2-6-9.

I have coordinates for a projectile intercept; prepare to receive.

Commander: Coordinates confirmed and locked.

Three, two, one, launch.


We miss the fireworks?

Cabe: About to start.

You know, Adriana, I was wondering if Homeland told you about our "saving the world" bonus?

It's for when we save the world.

No, but I was made aware of money you owe the IRS on undeclared gambling winnings.

Maybe we should table the bonus talk for now, hmm?

This is bad, this is bad.

What?

Paths are off; they're gonna miss.

Can't be, I-I did the math.

Look, the m*ssile's coming in high.

How could this happen?

I-I don't know, I did the calculations, and they were right-- they're always right.

I'm sorry, I don't know how I messed up, guys.

Cabe: Maybe you didn't.

Maybe you just got some bad Intel.

It happens all the time.

Oh, no, the specs came directly from Roscosmos.

But we were working on assumptions, the first one being: we're dealing with a satellite damaged by space debris.

Walter questioned me on it, maybe he was right to do so.

What do you mean?

I don't know, but I'm gonna find out, 'cause I got a direct line to the horse's mouth.

Something's not adding up, and I'm missing it.

It's my fault.

No, it isn't.

If I can't think, if I can't solve, then what damn good am I?

Adriana: This is Molina.

Yes, sir, I am aware that it failed.

I'm calling you to find out why.

Respectfully, the people in my room are smarter than the people in your room, and they say that it should have worked.

So either a room full of geniuses are suddenly dumb, or a room full of politicians are lying to protect their own hide.

I know which one I would bet on.

Is she talking to the president like that?

I believe she is.

I'm getting audited.

Adriana: Well, your candor is appreciated.

Walter was right.

Space debris did not knock this satellite out of orbit, the U.S. government did, intentionally.

Geez!

Care to elaborate?

The administration believes the K12 satellite had m*llitary applications.

It was carrying enough plutonium to operate a laser system that could be used as a w*apon, so they directed a dummy satellite to strike it and disrupt its orbit.

It was kept hush-hush 'cause we violated the space-warfare treaty.

If the Russians found out, it could be all-out w*r.

Yeah, the satellites must have gotten intertwined, the mass was much larger than we thought.

The m*ssile never had a chance.

Sylvester: I just hacked NORAD, and I got the specs for the dummy satellite.

I am now recalculating flight dynamics, considering the massive shifts in center of mass, aerodynamic drag profile and the complete modification of angular acceleration.

(computer beeps)

Impact is in 53 minutes and it's headed straight for Pasadena.

Happy: With that mass, the satellite's too close to the Earth to be safely destroyed.

We hit it now, it's nuclear winter.

So there's no way to stop it?

Walter: There's got to be a way, I just have to figure it out.

Okay, uh, close the window and open the coding file on my laptop.

No, no! No, no! Not that one!

What?

Ah...

Paige: 'Cause I really care about you, Walter.

Oh...

Paige: Because I really care about you, Walter.

Because I really care about you, Walter.

You hacked the hospital security footage?

Because I really care about you, Walter.

Bet that satellite can't get here fast enough for you, huh, pal?

Okay.

It was, uh, simple curiosity and, uh, gathering of the facts.

Nothing more.

Adriana: Okay.

If we're done with the film festival, do we have a plan "B"?

Yeah, we will.

I'm, uh, I'm thinking...

(multiple phones ringing)

Cabe: That would be NASA, NORAD, the UN, and NATO... all wanting to know about the unplanned m*ssile launch.

We'll let the machine get it.

(phones continue ringing)

(electrical crackling, phones stop ringing)

My head is in the game. I...

Look, if we are seriously at a brick wall, I'm calling for a chopper out of L.A.

What, and let ten million people die?

We cannot do that.

Adriana: Look, there is nothing left to do.

By saving yourselves, your minds will save millions more down the line.

Just not today.

I'm sorry, guys, I don't... I don't have a solution.

Well, if you don't, no one does.

Adriana's right-- we gotta go.

Adriana: Everyone to the roof.

We'll be airborne in ten minutes.

Wait, guys!

Guys, the reason why we can't communicate with the satellite is because it's too far away for its damaged system to connect with RAC on Earth.

We just need another way of talking to it.

The unmanned X-24G spacecraft.

Whoa!

That's a top secret spy shuttle.

How do you even know about that?

That jet's the worst kept secret in the Air Force.

Multiple blogs follow it.

Walter: Ok, okay, so control of the 24G is based out of Thomas Air Force Base.

Okay, so if we can get there and access the 24G's computer, then we can communicate effectively with the satellite if they get close enough to each other.

It'll be in proximity over U.S. Samoa in 48 minutes.

We could then redirect it into the ocean.

Okay, Thomas is within blast radius.

If this doesn't work, none of us make it to safety on time.

We're aware of the risks.

Okay, Sylvester you stay here and you prepare the new trajectory codes.

I will reboot the satellite at the base, you send me the coordinates.

Sylvester: I'm here alone?

What if someone who tried to call shows up?

I'll stay.

Chopper's on the roof.

You heard her. Let's go.

Whoa.

Oh!

So y... uh, about the, uh, video...

Walter, let's talk about it after we stop the A-b*mb.
(indistinct shouting)

Agent Gallo!

Flight Research is this way!

Where's everyone going?

When we get word the whole coast is about to light up, our orders are to take this operation and bug out!

Hope you work fast.

Everyone's leaving, we're showing up.

Happy: Accessing the X-24G's flight control now.

Okay, we're in.

Type colon run init dash backslash link X dash band.

I'm-I'm having a hard time hearing you.

His physical distance mirrors his psychological state, on account of the video incident which I've dubbed "the embarrassment."

Walter: Okay, when 24G crosses, it will find and link up with the satellite's computer.

We will only have 20 seconds to reprogram the satellite.

Beyond that, and they'll be too far apart to communicate.

Oh. Okay. Okay.

We're in range in three, two...

Go, Sylvester!

Reprogramming new coordinates now...

It's not accepting them.

The 24G and the satellite haven't linked yet.

Wait. Why is it so slow?

I... The link should've happened.

I have a virus.

Sylvester: Well, you better hurry up and get rid of it!

There's only 14 seconds until the 24G and the satellite are out of range of each other.

I'm trying.

Since when do you get a virus?

You got it from the hospital server when you hacked the video!

Walter, nine seconds.

Yeah, I know, I know. I'm try...

I'm running a clean-up with my left hand.

Come on, kid, you can do this.

Almost done.

Five seconds!

Got it clear!

Try to link up now!

Entering new coordinates now and...

Did it work?

The 24G and the satellite are too far apart.

It did not work.

I'm not gonna mention the irony of getting a virus from a hospital.

I said I wouldn't mention it.

We should have taken the helicopter.

I hate helicopters, but you're right.

No one is dying today.

Aside from the ten million I failed to save?

Walter, no one is dying.

My son is 3,000 miles away and I'll be damned if I'm not going to see him again.

(exhales)

Paige... we discussed the reality of an A-b*mb in the SUV.

We're in the concussive blast zone.

If you want to call Ralph, call him now.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Wait. Don't call him.

Don't call him.

Happy, what were you talking about, a concussive blast?

We can do that to the satellite with an electromagnetic pulse.

We can reboot the satellite's computer to safe mode and then Sylvester can reprogram its trajectory coordinates and then send it to the ocean.

Wouldn't an EMP just fry it?

Not if the pulse width was precise.

I could build one easily, but how the hell do we get it near the satellite?

There is a meteorology division here in this base.

We use a weather balloon.

Now, how long would it take you to make an EMP device?

Fast enough.

I just need to get my hands on some microwave ovens.

So it's 25 minutes until impact.

We meet outside at the front gates in seven!

Microwave ovens?

Well, how would you build an EMP?

(tires screeching)

Okay.

Yeah, this'll do.

How many do we need?

All of them.

Oh.

Need all the luck I can get.

Okay, all right.

Quick test.

Keep your shorts on, I will figure it out.

Here. A loose wire.

Happy?

Happy!

Happy!

You all right?

Works like a charm.

Let me see your eye.

Uh...

Okay, bad news: Your eye is rock hard.

There's pressure building up inside it.

But good news: I can fix it.

Toby, she needs to get in the balloon with me to operate the EMP.

Change in air pressure will rupture her eye, and I have to treat her stat, or else she'll go blind.

Suit me up.

Walter: No, no.

That's-that's too much weight.

We'll ascend too slowly and then miss the window to reboot the satellite.

I'm going.

No.

It's below freezing conditions, oxygen deprivation, not to mention it's a one-way ticket up.

Only way down is to parachute.

We said we'd support each other in this thing.

Neither of us can do it alone, but together, we have a sh*t.

All right. Get your coat on.

Walter (grunts): All right.

It's difficult one-handed.

Okay.

This looks like a science fair project.

It'll work?

Yeah. I mean, in theory it will, but sometimes you don't know if a theory is right until you test it.

Ready?

(exhales)

See you on the ground.

Walter: Yeah.

One way or another.

Oh...

You good?

Paige: Yeah.

All right.

Paige: Oh.

Say good-bye to the ground.

(teeth chattering)

I'm freezing.

Yeah, well, this is just cold.

Freezing happens in a few minutes, when we get outside.

Ah...

Yeah, just hold on.

Ah, all right.

No punching.

I know it hurts.

But your eye is filled with fluid and the drain, Schlemm's Canal, is blocked.

That is not a real term, you made it up.

It is very real.

Pushing on your eyelid is like using a plunger on a...

You get the idea.

It's ironic that you trust me to save your sight but not date you.

Just keep plunging.

(wind whistling)

Ah, God, I'm sorry.

If I hadn't hacked into that hospital footage, then we'd all be back at the garage.

Everyone safe.

Walter, you didn't know.

We said open communication, so...

I have had, uh, feelings about you, similar to the ones that you've had about me.

They confused me, but, ironically, my, uh, head injury has provided some clarity.

Uh... when I'm not at 100%, it frightens me.

That I won't be able to help the greater good.

But when I am fully healthy, I...

I can't risk Scorpion not working.

So you and me, whatever feelings we have, um... for each other, it's, uh... (exhales) .. it's destabilizing.

You know?

(exhales)

I thin+ you're right.

We should let it lie.

Yeah, what did I tell you about my nightmares?

The entire time you were in rehab, I realized how close we came to losing the team.

And what they meant to me.

I would never do anything to jeopardize Scorpion.

So... yeah, I agree.

Friends and colleagues.

Toby: I agree as well.

We can hear you.

Sylvester: Guys? you're about to be within range of the satellite.

Set the device.

Okay, I'm gonna go up.

Go. Good luck.

The satellite is about to pass within range.

Walter: All right!

Almost in position.

Walter!

Everything okay up there?

Walter: Yeah, just a little hiccup.

(wind whistling, Walter panting)

Paige, I'll be right back!

Bring the battery.

Walter!

Oh, hi.

I-I-I can't reach the cord.

The parachute buckles are restricting my reach.

Okay, okay.

No! No! No!

That's a bad idea!

(grunting)

(sighs)

(grunting)

Okay, okay, okay!

Oh, come on, come on!

Okay.

Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on!

(grunting)

I got it. I got it! I got it!

(tone ringing)

(gasping) Walter!

Oh, God.

Oh, that's a wrinkle.

What he say?

"That's a wrinkle"?

What's a wrinkle?

Ooh, that's a wrinkle.

Not good.

Okay, okay.

Change of plans.

Happy?

Talk Paige through the EMP sequence.

Sylvester: Better do it quick, because the satellite is within range!

Paige: Okay, but be very... very clear because the air is getting thin and I'm getting loopy.

Okay, put the sun on your left shoulder, angle it 45 degrees, hit the red switch.

Oh, God.

(Paige panting)

I think it's in position.

Wait for Sylvester's command, then hit the toggle switches from left to right, got it?

Okay.

Dineen!

Yeah, yeah, I'm ready to roll!

Okay, Paige, ready... hit it!

Guys...

I'm a little...

I can't, I can't focus!

Did you say right to left?

Left to right! Get it together!

Walter: Come on, Paige!

Paige, you can do this.

(whooshing)

(gasps) Safe mode!

The satellite's in safe mode!

What does that mean to us?

That means that all of its security measures have been disabled, and I can send it new coordinates to direct it to the ocean.

Man: Freeze!

Do not move.

If I can't type, we all die.

Agent Adriana Molina, Director of Homeland Security.

Who the hell are you?

D.o.D.

NORAD said there was an unauthorized m*ssile launch at this site.

It was authorized by me.

You keep away from this man or I'll see to it you're tried for treason.

Sylvester, start typing.

(Sylvester typing)

Oh, God.

Okay, Walter. You got to climb.

Come on.

The cold is cramping my good hand.

And unfortunately the balloon's at risk, so I would advise a solo descent.

What, without you?

No, no.

I'm coming with you.

No, no, no...

I'm just gonna have to--

Oh, God-- climb down there.

Stay there, Paige.

Paige, stay there.

No.

Paige, stay there!

Sylvester: With my new coordinates in place, we can use the apogee kick motor to blast the satellite into the ocean.

I've routed the engine ignition to that console to prevent possible overload.

So, let's go, come on, over there, yes. Okay.

I'm buckling this around us.

And we'll go down together, okay?

Okay, okay.

You have to reach for it.

Yeah, yeah.

Can you get it? (groans)

On my call, hit enter.

Yeah, I got it. I got it.

I got it.

Hurry. Hurry.

Okay, okay, got it.

Ready?

It's too short.

What?

It's too short-- it won't close!

Paige: Oh, God. Oh, God.

Sylvester: Ready?

Now!

(whooshing)

It worked!

The satellite's on a new vector and it's heading straight to the ocean!

So, you're saying we're saved?

That's exactly what I'm saying!

Except they're screwed.

Oh, no!

No! No! Walter!

The satellite's on a new vector, and it's heading straight towards you!

(engine whooshing)

(engine whooshing)

I'm giving us 12 seconds until impact.

You got to drop now.

Walter, I'm not leaving without you.

Paige, you got to drop!

Walter, I have, I have an idea.

Paige, drop, Paige. Paige!

Six seconds until impact!

Just drop, please.

Hold on, I've almost got this in.

Five, four, three...

Paige, drop!

Hold it steady, I'm connect my end.

Okay, drop!

(screaming)

(screaming, gasping)

(Walter grunting)

(Paige laughs)

Well, it's a good thing that we're just colleagues or this might be, uh... awkward. (chuckles)

(laughs)

♪ ♪

Okay, I want to get the cameras here, and podium right in front of that flag.

Let's get ahead of this thing.

Hey, can somebody move that?

(sirens wailing)

What?

Use your words.

Jerk.

I'm scared.

That's the first time I've ever heard you say that.

Happy?

Do you know there's a better chance of a nuclear apocalypse than of me ever hurting you?

What do you see?

A rare and delightful fungus.

Adriana: The satellite is being recovered five miles off the coast of Santa Monica.

The result of f*ring its apogee kick motor, which I thankfully engaged, although I must say I was sweating when I pushed that button.

(laughter)

I pressed the button, too, you know.

(continues indistinctly)

I'm not hearing about any of us.

Well, she technically did press a button, so she's not lying.

Politicians.

Masters of the half truth.

I had higher hopes for this lady.

Adriana: I can't take all the credit, though.

Homeland is lucky to have a team of very good scientists under its umbrella.

They helped, too.

Super Fun Guy: Mirth?

You can't handle the mirth.

Toby, I told you before it's not a toy!

Okay?

It's a doll that operates on batteries.

That's the definition of a toy.

My Whoopee Cushion of Doom will blast you to atoms!

(Super Fun Guy farting)

Let me do it!

Okay, children.

Now it's mine.

Glad to be working with this kind of nonsense again?

I've been working with actors for weeks.

Trust me, this is a maturity upgrade.

Kovelsky's, my treat!

We're in.

Paige?

Uh, paperwork.

Boring. Cabe?

On you?

Absolutely.

Walter?

Ooh, no, no, no.

I'm resting.

That's wise.

And the next time you hold out on me in regards to your health, we're gonna have an issue.

Paige told you?

No.

I just know you, kid.

(door opens)

(door closes)

You're, uh... perturbed?

My new business plan for Scorpion.

Wondering if it'll ever work.

Well, your-your plan is just a theory.

Its-its basis and assumptions need to be tested to prove its validity.

Like the microwave EMP.

That was just a theoretical solution until we tested it.

I guess.

Or like you and me.

You know, we, um, we assume that our perplexing, uh, feelings... uh, will interfere with Scorpion.

So our theory dictates that we avoid anything unprofessional.

Right.

Yeah. Right.

Except, you know, um... we never really tested our assumption.

Yeah, I mean, the one our theory's based on that we couldn't work together if we acted on our attraction.

Yep.

Okay, yeah, good.

Well, we tested that theory.

Honestly, I felt nothing. You?

Same.

I'm starting to believe that m-my attraction to you is based on the symmetry of your face, which is a vestigial affectation from cavemen.

It meant that you were free from genetic malfunctions.

I guess the assumption of our intense chemistry was... off.

It can happen with any hypothesis.

But just to be safe, we should prob...

Yes, professional colleagues.

See you tomorrow.

Okay, tomorrow.

Good night.

Good night.

Good night.

(exhales) Oh, boy.
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